Chapter Four
After the foreman’s temper tantrum yesterday morning, Nate had spent the day ten feet from Olivia while she’d shaved wool off sheep. Many, many sheep. At least he knew what shearing meant now. It looked exhausting. A week ago, he wouldn’t have said so, but since watching her and Nakos for nine solid hours, Nate would’ve rather done eight-hundred push-ups than partake.
And he’d tried damn hard not to think about how great her ass looked in jeans every time she’d bent over. Which had been a lot. Or the way sunlight had lit her cornflower eyes and auburn hair on their walk. Or the way she’d smiled sweetly at him as if she could chase away all his dark simply by wishing it.
Justin had been like that, too—worked his way past Nate’s defenses and burrowed deep. Didn’t matter how many times he’d told Justin to go away or gave off fuck-you vibes, the guy had just kept at it with charm and smiles and blah, blah, blahing Nate to death. Until he’d found himself liking the fellow soldier so much, he’d considered him a friend. A rare occurrence, since Nate had never bestowed the moniker on anyone before. Where he came from, friends were only as good as your next drug run and then stabbed you in the back for leverage.
Endearing as Justin had been, his sister was worse. The he-couldn’t-breathe-correctly, what-the-hell-happened-to-rational-thought kind of worse. And damn. Around her, he had no filter. At least with Justin, Nate had been able to pull up before spouting too much. With Olivia? Diarrhea of the mouth. First with the dog comment, then admitting to having nightmares.
Her reaction had been a kick in the teeth. No platitudes or flowery nonsense. Just empathetic eyes and offers of a solution. Like there was any chance of fixing him.
Then there was the aunt. Mae was a trip herself. After his run yesterday, he’d gone upstairs to shower, only to find a mini-fridge in his room that hadn’t been there before, stocked with Gatorade. And a case of protein bars on his dresser. His stupid heart had shifted in his stupid chest. Most people took something as simple as eating for granted. To him, food still gave him pause, even after all these years.
Today, with his leg cramping, he jogged the last dreg to the house and slipped in the back door. Olivia was perched at the table with coffee and Mae was transferring muffins to a teetering stack on the counter.
He swiped sweat from his brow with his forearm. “I’ll go shower and—”
Mae shoved a plate with two muffins and a heap of strawberries at him.
“Eat,” he mumbled.
He attempted to ignore Olivia’s eyes on him while he stood by the sink and chewed as fast as he could. Knowing her routine now, he didn’t have to rush because she wasn’t waiting on him, but he hated the way her clever, intuitive gaze tracked his every move. It was enough to make a man self-conscious.
“You can sit, you know.” Her lips curved in what he called her coax-the-beast smile.
He couldn’t be tamed. Best she realize that. “I’m sweaty.”
She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her ample chest. Who knew flannel could be sexy? “So what? Sit, please. Enjoy your food.”
Forcing a strawberry down his tight throat, he avoided her gaze. Looking at her would only suck him into her orbit and he’d say the first thing that came to mind. Like how he’d never enjoyed food. It was for sustenance only.
Once he’d showered and met up with her again, they followed the same path as yesterday, except he waited for her outside the cemetery gate while she talked to Justin. Talked, as in she had a conversation with her brother like Nate hadn’t killed him. Swear to Christ, he didn’t know what to make of her.
Bones trotted along beside them on the way back. The dog had been glued to Nate’s side since their bonding episode on the porch. Nate didn’t know what to make of that, either. He’d found Bones outside his bedroom door again this morning and he’d followed Nate on his run.
Nakos stood outside the barn when they approached, looking no more eager to see Nate than the day before. The foreman gave some sort of greeting to Olivia that sounded like heh-beh and ignored Nate altogether. Fine by him.
Except he didn’t like the way Nakos looked at her and certainly didn’t care for the way they had their own kind of unspoken communication between them. There was a solid minute of what he interpreted as: He’s still here...Yes, get over it...I’m not happy...Understood. Nate couldn’t tell if Olivia had a thing for the foreman, but he was definitely in love with her.
Nate wouldn’t know love if it latched onto his face and wiggled, but he could spot it on others as easily as he could weed out a lie. Call it a gift.
They slipped into the same routine as yesterday, with Nakos holding the sheep and Olivia shearing. But instead of Nate standing around twiddling his thumbs, he took the wool from her, brushed it as he’d seen her do, then rolled it like she had.
Ten head in, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Your turn.”
Nate looked from the sheep on its back to Olivia. “What?”
“I’ll walk you through it. Come over here.”
With a wry sneer, Nakos deigned to speak to him. “And if you screw up, it could cause injury to the animal or decrease the wool’s value.”
Ignoring the self-righteous prick, Nate focused on Olivia. She had her hair pulled back in a low ponytail, was covered in dirt and tufts of white fur, had not a stitch of makeup on, and was still able to cease his heart. “Are you sure?”
In answer, she lifted her brows.
He squatted next to her, but she worked her way between his legs until she was cradled against his thighs. Her rain-like scent combined with hay and became all he could breathe in. The slim, lean press of her body in such an intimate position rendered him incapable of swallowing. In sensory overload, he tensed.
He wasn’t used to touch. Plain and simple. As a kid, he’d not been in an environment that doled out hugs and, as a teen, his lifestyle with the Disciples gang hadn’t exactly been cuddly. Even when he was with a woman, he preferred fast, hard fucking to fondling, typically thwarting any attempts at caressing or exploration on the female’s part.
Olivia was different. Other than the brief embrace on her porch and a casual arm brush, there hadn’t been contact. But those couple instances didn’t instill the urge to back off or erect distance. Instead, every molecule in his body screamed for...more.
Seemingly unaware of his predicament, she picked up the clippers at their feet. “The wool on the belly is the dirtiest and not valuable, which is why we start there.” She took his hand and set the clippers in it, cradling hers around his. The buzz of the device vibrated in his palm, and she took his other hand, laying the blades against his fingertips. “It won’t cut you, but it needs to be held at the right angle.” She turned her head and looked at him. “Do you...”
Their faces inches apart, he froze as the time-space continuum imploded on itself. He’d taken enemy fire that had been less jarring than having her this close. Her cornflower gaze held him immobile, framed by long blondish-red lashes he imagined would feel like feather kisses if fluttered against his skin. She had the tiniest scar above her upper lip—a thin white mark, unnoticeable had he not been right on top of her.
At his perusal, she let out an uneven breath that skated over his jaw. His heart detached ribs as he lowered his gaze to her mouth. They weren’t full or lush, but her lips had a bow shape that was part adorable and one-hundred percent groan-worthy. Sheer temptation.
The loud rasp of Nakos clearing his throat made her flinch.
“Um...” She blinked repeatedly and glanced at their joined hands like waking from a midday nap. A blush worked its way up her neck and infused her cheeks.
“You were saying how to hold the clippers and dole correct strokes,” Nakos supplied in a drone that had Nate’s molars gnashing.
“Right,” she breathed and cleared her throat. “Start at the breast bone on the right side and shear all the way to the flank.”
She’d lost him somewhere between “your turn” and “um,” but he nodded.
Gently, she lifted their joined hands and encouraged him to let her guide. Together, they stripped off a section of wool on the belly. She repeated the pattern on the left side, then a center strip before moving onto the inside of the hind legs, crotch, and tail. Nakos shifted the sheep’s position, and she and Nate did the shoulders and outer legs. Two more position changes, several more strokes of the clipper on the back, and they finished.
Nate preferred the Army’s calisthenics, but there was something rewarding in accomplishing a new skill. After many more runs with Olivia guiding him, he did two sheep on his own to round out the day.
Nakos stopped Olivia outside the barn door and passed her a folded piece of paper while Nate waited a few feet away.
She glanced at the page and handed it back. “I told you.”
Nakos headed for the driveway. “Consider our discussion off the table, little red.”
Nate had no clue what the hell had just gone down, but judging by Olivia’s sagging shoulders, closed eyes, and the way she dropped her head, it wasn’t good. When she covered her face with her hands and sighed, Nate’s pulse thumped.
“What’s wrong?” He stepped in front of her when he should’ve left her alone. Whatever was between her and her foreman, or anything regarding the ranch, was none of his business.
Her hands slapped her thighs. “I’m mean and I screwed up.”
His first instinct was to laugh. Her version of mean and his were polar opposites. She seemed pretty upset, though, so he kept mum.
“I’m going for a ride. Would you like to come?”
“Sure.” He thought she meant for a drive until she led him to the barn and stopped one of the ranch hands from unsaddling a horse. Her and the dark-haired, skinny-as-hell kid made small talk, so Nate glanced around.
The carriage doors were open on both ends of the long, narrow stables, creating a breeze and filtering late-day light. Fifteen stalls lined each side, some with horses, some empty. Stacks of hay bales were piled along a far wall and, for a barn, the place was tidy.
“Kyle, this is Nate.” She smiled and faced him. “Kyle is my friend Amy’s little brother.”
“Yeah, I heard you were around.” Kyle held out his hand. “I think I’ll call you Gigantor.”
Not if he wanted Nate to respond. Regardless, he shook the kid’s hand. “A pleasure.”
Olivia glanced at a clipboard on the wall. “Anything I need to watch for?”
Kyle eyed the ceiling as if in thought. “No, but if you head up to Devil’s Cross, mind the incline. The creek’s low.”
“Will do. Can you pop up to the house and let Mae know we’re going riding?”
“Sure thing.” He gave Olivia a fist bump and jogged out of the barn.
She grabbed the reins of two horses and walked them out the opposite end and into a clearing. Long prairie grass stirred in the wind as the pink sky faded to navy. She tied the brown horse to a post by a fence and held the black one in place.
Nate eyed her, then the animals. “Never ridden one of these.”
“This is Midnight. He’s a three-year-old stallion and very mild-mannered. Come on over here.” When he did as asked, she took his wrist and had him run his hand down the horse’s nose. In turn, Midnight nudged Nate’s shoulder, and Olivia laughed. “There, he likes you.”
She instructed him how to mount, and he climbed onto the saddle. She did the same on hers, looking way more graceful about it, and settled her horse next to his.
“My guy here is Pirate, and he’s a two-year-old gelding. Now, you know how to ride a motorcycle, so you’re at an advantage.” She set one hand on his stomach and the other on his forearm, and he inhaled hard. “Driving a bike requires using your core and arms. You lean into the turns, right? A horse is a bit of the opposite.” And down went her hands on his thighs, and he tensed. “Your lower body and gravity will do the work. Use your legs to steer as well as the reins.”
Lower body? Yeah, it was paying attention. Heart pounding, oxygen in short supply, he tried everything he could to concentrate on her words. He had a sinking suspicion she could touch him incidentally every hour on the hour for a thousand years, and he’d never get used to it.
A frown marred her forehead. “You seem nervous. Know what? We’ll ride together this first time.”
Nervous didn’t cover it. And it had nothing to do with the horse. He’d spent his entire life unafraid of anything. Balls-to-the-wall and like the hounds of hell were chasing him. Probably because they were. Yet a slender redhead with innocent doe eyes came onto the scene and panic clawed his chest.
Before he could protest or somehow explain his response, she dismounted and walked her horse to the barn. She emerged moments later with a reassuring smile, tucked her foot into his stirrup, and climbed onto his horse.
Her back flush to his front, she grinned over her shoulder. “Better?”
No. Yes. Sweet Christ, strike him now. “Sure,” he grated.
With a nod, she took each of his hands and put them on the reins, then placed hers over his so she was caged in his arms. Over her shoulder, with the scent of her shampoo driving him insanely crazy, he stared at her short blunt nails and long, delicate fingers. Except she had slight calluses on her palms that contradicted the fragile appearance.
“Okay, just follow my lead. It’s kinda like steering your motorcycle.”
This was nothing like his Hog, barring the rev of a different engine and the free-falling sensation of the ride.
She kicked them into a slow trot and rode them across the plains, over a few hills, and to the top of a bluff. He forgot about her closeness—mostly—and took in the view instead. Shadows played with moonlight over the horizon, shaping the mountains and surrounding wilderness as dusk descended and stars winked overhead.
Nothing. No noise, no sirens, no gunfire. Just...nothing.
He shook his head, wondering if the strange sense of calm was from her or the setting. Perhaps both. A crisp breeze tinged with pine and snow swept over him, and he filled his lungs. He could see just about all of her land from their vantage point.
Something crackled and then a voice broke the peace. “You there, boss?”
“Shoot.” She twisted in the saddle, wrapped an arm around his waist, and leaned over so far, he thought she’d fall. She pulled a walkie-talkie out of a bag attached near the horse’s flank and spoke into it. “I’m here, Rico. What’s up?”
“Nakos wants to know where you are and Mae wants to know when you’ll be back.”
She issued a disgusted sound. “I’m up at Blind Ridge and I’ll be back within an hour. Tell Nakos to take a chill pill. I have the satellite phone, the two-way, and a revolver.” She paused. “Thanks, Rico. Go home.”
His laugh reverberated through the speaker. “Ten-four. Be careful.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered as she put the walkie-talkie back in the bag. She shifted until she sat sideways in the saddle, her hip snug against Nate’s crotch, and let out a weary sigh. “This is my favorite place on the whole ranch.”
He could see why. “You have a gun?”
She grinned and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Yep. And yes, I can shoot it, too.”
“Do you have a lot of opportunities to fire a gun?” What the hell did she need to target? Dust motes?
“It’s for protection. Black bear, that kind of thing.” She looked at him and laughed. “Don’t worry. They don’t bother people much.”
“I was actually picturing you shooting a bear.” He rubbed his neck, wondering why the image of her packing was so hot. “Is Nakos always that protective?”
“Sadly, yes. He’s been like that since we were kids.” Her contemplative gaze scanned the area. “More so since you arrived. You should know he did a background check on you.”
Okay, the two of them had a very long history. Noted. And a background check wouldn’t turn up anything. Nate’s juvie record was sealed. “He’s got it for you bad.”
She closed her eyes. “I know.” Flicking a strand of hair off her face, she looked at him. “Speaking of protective, what was with the pissing contest yesterday?”
“Gut response.” Color him crazy, but his intuition to look after her had suddenly become more than a promise. All he could do was think mine whenever she was within fifty yards. He couldn’t seem to get his baser instincts to realize she’d never be his, though. And shouldn’t be, either. Two days, and he wanted her with a fierceness he’d never known. Lust he could deal with, but this didn’t lean solely that way. “I’m not sexist and I don’t think women incapable, but common sense shuts off in certain situations.”
“It has to stem from somewhere.”
Smart little cookie, this one. “There was a girl I knew growing up. We went through the system together, wound up at a lot of the same places.” He could still see the bruises mottling Darla’s body and wanted to rail. She’d been the closest he had to a sibling and, years later, when he’d encountered her again as one of the Disciples’ whores, he’d been just as powerless as he’d been as a child to help her. “She was mousy and I tried my best to keep an eye on her.”
Except Darla had wound up dead, anyway. In an alley with a needle in her arm.
“The system? You were a foster kid?”
Son of a bitch. What exactly was the glitch, the direct correlation between Olivia and his sudden lack of filter? “If I say yes, are you going to toss the pity card?”
“No.” She swallowed and stared ahead. “If not for Aunt Mae, Justin and I would’ve wound up the same way. All of this,” she waved her hand and shrugged, “would be gone. In the hands of some stranger.” She tilted her head, brow wrinkled. “It would’ve broken my heart. Four generations of Cattenachs have worked this land.”
The farthest he could trace his family tree was a crack addict mother who’d delivered him in an ER and split. But he understood. And so did Olivia, apparently. If he didn’t watch himself, he’d let her in too far and never climb back out.
“I think that’s why the rift with Nakos upsets me so much.” Her gaze met his again, soft and yielding. “For the first time in our adult lives, I brought up the possibility of something more between us. If I don’t have an heir, the legacy dies with me. He’s a good guy, but I think he was insulted.” She offered a hopelessly sad smile. “We’d have beautiful babies.”
But she didn’t love the guy. That much was apparent. Nate was the last person to be giving advice, yet the thought of her losing the adorable part of her personality in order to settle made his gut ache. Because that’s what would happen. Mediocrity would douse her light.
Her hand settled on his bicep. The contact sent a current from the exact location, through his whole nervous system, and back again. Created unimaginable heat. Had him grasping for purchase. He tensed, wanting more, but unable and unwilling to take it.
Her pretty eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth as if horrified. “Oh God. You did that in the barn today while shearing, and again on the horse. I thought you were nervous, but...” She fisted her hands under her chin. “You hate being touched, don’t you? I’m so sorry. And here I was...”
She went to dismount, but he wrapped an arm around her waist to stop her, frustrated and confused. “What are you doing?”
“Getting down. I’ll walk us back so you don’t have to ride with me.”
The hell she would. It had to be two miles to the main house.
Shit. And how to explain his body’s response to her? She had the impression she’d done something wrong when he was the asshole. “I’m fine like this.”
She chewed her lower lip. “Reach behind you and grab the back of the saddle. Hold on tight, though. I’m going to ride faster than when we came up to get you back quicker.”
“Olivia—”
“I’m really sorry.” She faced front and grabbed the reins. “Hold on.”